


Soccer, High School & Love

by Writerz_Block



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Budding Love, Clexa, Clexa Endgame, Commander Lexa, F/F, F/M, Growing Up, High School, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Overcoming Obstacles, Overcoming fears, Panic Attacks, Skaikru, Soccer, Soccer Captain, debate class, grounders, high school romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-07-06 09:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerz_Block/pseuds/Writerz_Block
Summary: Lexa can feel the world around her growing smaller by the minute, panic rising quickly to beat fiercely at her chest. Just when she thinks it will consume her, a gentle voice pulls her free of the void and back to reality. Yet, the voice belongs to a face she has never seen before. It is definitely a face she would remember meeting. When they touch, the connection is immediate, but what does it mean? There are a lot of trials when dating in high school, especially when you're gay and you don't even know it. So, what do you do when you fall for your anchor, your best friend?





	1. When the Storm Hits

**Author's Note:**

> Heya guys!
> 
> I know, why am I starting a new story when I have three others that I seem to be having a hard time keeping up with. Here is my answer: because I wanted to. I have been up for nearly 24 hours and all day, I have been having the same few lines repeating in my head. And every time, I could only think about how great of a start that would be to a new story. Since sleep has eluded me once more, I decided to put my thoughts to work. Now, I apologize in advance for any errors I have made. Again, I must reiterate, I have not slept. Also, it has been some years since I was in high school. I am sure some things have changed since I was there (It wasn't THAT long ago. Don't make me older than I actually am, thank you.) but I am sure the gist of it is about the same.  
> Of course, I hope you do enjoy the beginning of the story. Let me know if you would like to see it continued or if you have any ideas/suggestions for how you would like to see it proceed.  
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. In truth, they kind of make my day! Enjoy!  
> <3 Sam

_I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe! I. Can’t. Breathe._

The startling realization causing a slight tremor to course throughout my body. My teeth ground together, the sound muted by the steady pounding in my head. Blood rushed through my veins, my vitality a symphony, my heart the drums. My stomach clenched as the ground lurched, the world around me becoming a swirling mass of color.

Gravity pulled at my will, dragging me down. Something hard scraped down my back, the pain biting. It was a stark contrast to the blinding vortex that was dancing to a dizzying tune. I grasped at the pain like an anchor in a typhoon.

Blotches of light attacked my vision, lightening being added to the chaos of the cyclone. The storm within raged against its cage, wearing away at its shell. If it were to break free, it would leave devastation in its wake. It would leave me in ruins.

The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle invaded my senses. I closed my eyes, allowing the scent to consume me, to ground me. Slowly, the storm began to pass. A sigh escaped my lips.

“There you go. Take another deep breath for me, okay?”

My eyes shot open at the unexpected, pleasant sound, only to be swept away into another storm. Blue. The ocean tide was threatening to swallow me whole, and oh how I wanted to drown in those deep waters. I would gladly welcome death if that meant this were to be the last sight my eyes ever saw. White sea foam swirled within the oceans depths, captivating me further.

It was several moments before I realized I was not gazing upon the perfect beach storm. No. Instead, I was looking into the purest blue eyes I had ever seen. Gone was the swirling ebb of sea foam, replaced with sincere concern.

The sound of her voice further repelled the storm within. The storms never fully disappeared. No. They remained just beneath the surface, brewing and waiting. Waiting until the moment when they could rise and rebel once more.

Oxygen rushed into my lungs, my body unsure of what to do with the precious element after having been deprived of it for so long. The invisible essence of life choked me, causing me to cough and splutter into the crook of my elbow. My throat felt like a desert wasteland, no oasis in sight.

Clearly, the Gods had heard my silent plea and took mercy on me, because a bottle of water was being placed in my hand and guided to my parched lips.

“Start off with small sips,” a gruff, yet feminine voice encouraged me.

I nodded subtly, unsure if the motion would go noticed. It must have, because the whisper of, “good,” resonated in my ears, the breath of the word a caress against my flesh.

Quickly, small sips became large gulps until all that remained was an empty plastic bottle. With my thirst quenched, I let my body relax, my head rolling back, connecting with a hard surface that let out a dull _clang_ of protest.

“Easy there, stud, no need to give yourself a concussion too,” stated an amused voice, a chuckle accompanying the warning.

I couldn’t stop the laugh that flew from my lips. The action made my head swim once more, causing the sound to fall silent. The burger I had for lunch threatening to make another appearance with every movement. Although the storm had been suppressed, it effects were widely felt, leaving in its path sheer exhaustion. My limbs felt like lead.

Slowly, I lowered my head, and my gaze, to the person who had helped me escape my Hell. Maybe it was still the haze of blurred vision, but I swear she was surrounded by a golden, celestial glow. She was a supernova and I was being drawn in by its brilliance. Her eyes were the same color as the ocean, or the sky on a perfect summer’s day. Golden tresses fell down to her shoulders in gentle waves. There was a softness to her jaw and I yearned to touch it. My gaze traveled down her elegant neck where I noticed the force behind her survival thrumming just beneath the surface of her pulse point, quickening as I continued my path downward. That slender neck plunged into a low-cut v-line t-shirt that left little to the imagination. Her breasts were divine. I am almost certain I drooled.

My thoughts were halted and my desired squelched when she cleared her throat. “See something you like, Commander?”

I quickly looked away, finding something fascinating on the floor by her sneakers. My only thought? _Oh shit. Busted._ Heat flushed my cheeks as I mumbled a brief apology under my breath.

“What was that,” she questioned, much to my horror.

Forcing my back to straighten and my shoulders to broaden, I looked back into her beautiful eyes and replied, “I apologize for my actions and if I made you uncomfortable. I must still be a bit out of it.” My voice was laced with fatigue, and something else that I couldn’t quite place.

She smiled a smile that touched her eyes, making them sparkle like a diamond in the sunlight. My heart stopped. Or it skipped a beat. Or the Earth stopped spinning. Or gravity ceased to exist. I was floating and falling, all at the same time. Reluctantly, I severed the connection. What the hell was I doing? This wasn’t me, openly gazing at a beautiful woman with no regard to my actions.

“I’m Clarke, by the way,” she quipped, extending her hand out to me.

Almost cautiously, I reached out my own trembling hand, embracing hers in a light grasp. I let out a small gasp and Clarke jumped ever so slightly. Did she feel it too? The energy between our palms was electrifying. It felt as though the air around us was solidifying, becoming nearly tangible. But just as quickly as we had touched, we both jerked our hands back, neither no long willing to meet the others curious eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, Clarke. I am… well, my name is….” _What the fuck is my name?_ “Lexa,” I suddenly blurted out, “My name is Lexa.”

“Oh, I know who you are, Commander,” she replied.

I couldn’t stop myself from looking up at her, pulling my knees to my chest. “How do you know who I am? I haven’t seen you here before, and I would remember seeing you.”

A smile ghosted the beautiful angels lips, their pout becoming fuller with their slight tilt upwards. “Oh, you would remember seeing me, huh?”

Again, I could feel my cheeks redden beneath her scrutiny. “Of course I would,” I stumbled out, “I have a pretty good memory and know everybody that attends Arkadia High.” _Please don’t see right through me. Please don’t._ _I don’t know everybody that goes here. That’s too many damn people to remember._

Of course, the Gods were no longer with me, because she called me out on it. “Are you sure? Because just a minute ago, you couldn’t even remember your own name.”

Ouch, my ego. It’ll definitely be bruised tomorrow. “Well, in my defense, we did just make introductions after I just had a panic attack.”

Her next words were laced with such concern and compassion that I felt them brush against my heart, making it flutter within its confines. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Stubbornly, I crossed my arms over my chest and drew my knees impossibly closer, making myself into a smaller target. “It’s stupid,” I spat out, “It was nothing.”

A kind and gentle touch grazed my cheek, lifting with it my gaze. Our eyes locked and this time, I couldn’t look away. The concern in her eyes was etched so deeply that I was afraid it would remain there for all eternity. “It was clearly something, if it made you have a panic attack, Leska.”

The way she said my name was my undoing. Suddenly, I wanted her to know why I was in the hallway, in the middle of third period, slouched against a locker. “It’s Mr. Pike,” I admitted.

Confusion muddled her eyes, so I was quick to elaborate. “He teaches debate.”

A sigh drifted in the space between us as Clarke began putting together the pieces of the story before I could finish speaking them. “So, the almighty Commander has a problem with public speaking?”

This time, when my cheeks became rosy, it wasn’t from embarrassment or desire. No. This was shame and disappointment, because it was true, I had a very big problem with public speaking. Even just the thought of being force to make an awkward presentation in front of my classmates was enough to quicken my breaths and the beating of my heart. “I do.” It was nearly a whisper.

“Lexa, that’s more than okay. We all have something that we’re scared of.”

Her words were simple, but they were effective. I didn’t feel quite so bad anymore. “What are you afraid of, Clarke,” curiosity getting the best of me.

She appeared to ponder the question a moment before replying. “Being rejected.”

The answer was simple, but stabbed at my heart. Who would ever be stupid enough to reject her? Only a fool. But before I could voice my thoughts, she reached for my hand, the electricity further stilling my thoughts.

“Let’s get you up off that floor and to the nurses station.”

Clarke was stronger than she looked. With one quick jerk, she had me up and on my feet. Feet that didn’t seem to be too prone on holding my body weight at the moment. The ground shifted beneath my feet and I began to sway. But Clarke grabbed me under my armpit, steadying me. She was my rock; my anchor. Her other arm eased around to my hip, grazing along my back. It sent shivers up my spine.

The blonde pulled her hand back, both of us staring at the red that marred her pale fingers. “Lexa, you’re bleeding.”

I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the blood. It wasn’t because I was squeamish and couldn’t handle the sight of it. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I was mesmerized by it. Not anybody else’s, just my own.

“Turn around and let me see.”

With her help, I did as I had been requested (told) to do. Bracing myself against the locker, she slowly lifted the hem of shirt up. Cool air quickly ascended upon my sweat soaked back, causing goosebumps to raise along my arms in response to the chill. Maybe if I keep telling myself it was the cold breeze that caused the goosebumps, I'll start to believe it. Clarke was gentle while she inspected the offending wound, almost intimately. Or maybe that was just a figment of my imagination. Wishful thinking?

My shirt was lowered back down and I turned around to receive my diagnosis. “What’s the damage, doc?”

Her brows were scrunched together in concentration. “Well, it looks like you cut your back on a portion of the locker that was sticking out. The cut doesn’t look too deep, so I doubt that it will need stitches, but you may need to get a Tetanus shot, just to be on the safe side.”

My palms began to tingle and my stomach started to curl. Panic arose free from its cell, straining to reach the surface once more. Breathing became difficult, again. The air, it burned, or it burned because there was none. I wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, I was pulled back from my demons with a tender hand on my chest. My heart sped beneath her touch, her hand jumping with every excited beat. _Was it panic, or was it excitement that made it race?_

“Calm down, Lexa. Deep breaths. In and out. Follow me,” she instructed, as she used her free hand to guide my hand to her own chest.

I could feel her pulse beneath my fingertips, beating much slower than mine. I know my eyes were glossed over with fear, but I answered her truthfully. “I don’t want-- I can’t get-- No shots!” The last word nearly being shouted in the empty hallway.

“Okay. Okay,” Clarke conceded, “no shots. Just calm down. Feel how I breathe. One deep breath in,” an extended pause, “and now let it out.”

After a minute or two of me trying to mirror Clarke’s breathing, I felt our heartbeats sync as we shared each breath. “There you go, Lexa. You’ve got this.”

Chancing a glance at her, I felt the tug of a smile at the corners of my mouth. I nodded my appreciation to her. She seemed to understand the motion because she instantly replied with a compassionate, “Anytime. Now, I need you to tell me how to get to the nurses station because I have no idea where it is. This place is like a maze.”

Now, I couldn’t fight that smile that overtook my face. And with short strides and a determined teenager at my side, we slowly made our way to the nurses station on the other end of the campus. Of course.

Clarke led me into the small office like sector of the building and into the area marked for medical care. Hearing our entrance, Mr. Jackson appeared around the corner. He took in my condition with a knowing look, “Mr. Pike tried to make you present again, didn’t he?”

All I could do was nod. “Well, come on then, into the back. Let’s get you to lie down. I’ll grab one of your favorite chocolate bars from the drawer. You just go right on in. Your friend can stay with you, if you would like.”

I nodded eagerly as both of them helped me to the room and onto the stiff bed. Exhaustion rooted me to the spot. Clarke sat in a stool next to me, holding my hand and rubbing soothing patterns over its surface.

Mr. Jackson reappeared with a Hershey bar in his hands. He passed it gingerly over to Clarke. “Make sure she eats all of this, slowly. Otherwise, she will just puke it all back up, and neither of us wants to clean up that mess.” He turned her attention to me, “Ms. Woods, you know the drill. I will be out in the lobby if you need me.”

I nodded, signalling my understanding. I was beginning to think this occurred far too often. 

After he left, Clarke piped up, voicing my own thoughts, as she broke off a piece of chocolate and passed it to me, “So, I take it this is a reoccurring event?”

“How did you guess,” I sarcastically questioned, before nibbling on my favorite piece of candy.

“Call it a hunch,” she shrugged. “ We really should get him to look at your back.”

I knew it was not a battle I was going to win, and I was too tired to put up a good defense anyways. “Okay, but let me rest first.”  
Of course,” she sweetly replied. “Get some rest. I will be right here the whole time, I promise.”

“You promise,” I asked around a yawn.

“Yes, Leska, I promise.”

And I believed her. So, I closed my eyes and drifted off to the sound of a quiet hum resonating with a tune that I did not recognize.


	2. Sibling Chaos and Domination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I know it has been a good little minute since I last updated any of my stories. I just wanted to let you know that I have no given up on this. Life has just gotten in the way and I need whomever stole my Muse to kindly return her. Please and thank you!

“Rise and shine, Squirt,” a way too chipper voice said, easily penetrating my very inappropriate dreams.

Damn her.

My dreams had been filled with blue eyes, blonde hair, and pouty lips. Oh, the wondrous art those lips could create. Masterpieces. True masterpieces. Modern day Van Gogh.

Groaning, I rolled away from the annoying voice. “Whoever made mornings so freaking bright should be crucified.”

“Lexa,” exclaimed a now horrified voice, much to my pleasure.

I couldn’t stop the smirk that made its way to my lips, so I turned to completely bury my face in my pillow, only resurfacing when oxygen became a necessity. Finally, I recanted my statement. “You’re right. I take it back. It is much too early to go to Hell, and on a Saturday no less.”

“Yes, Lexa,” Anya deadpanned, “that’s what’s important here. Not going to Hell on the weekend.”

“Anya,” I groaned once more, “it’s Saturday. Let me sleep.”

I pulled my pillow out from under my head and covered my face, successfully blocking the majority of the sunlight.

My request was met with the heavy force of a body flopping down on top of me. On my bladder.

“Oh no! Gravity is increasing upon me,” said an overly dramatic Anya.

In my state of mild exhaustion and being unamused, I stated, “You’re a rotten big sister.”

“Take it back,” a now shrill voice demanded.

My pillow was being forced more securely over my face, making breathing a bit more difficult. I, of course, objected, but the pillow only muffled my objections. Limbs flailed in every direction, hoping to make contact. Finally, I did, with a resounding _smack_.

“You butthead,” she said exasperated, “that actually hurt.”

Slowly, she lifted the pillow enough that I could breathe like a normal person and so that I could see a bit beyond the self-imposed darkness. Almost out of my limited line of sight, I could see my big sister rubbing a darkening pink spot on her forearm.

“Well, it wasn’t supposed to tickle,” I stated simply, silently chewing on my bottom lip in an attempt to hide my growing pleasure and smirk.

A soft sigh reached my ears. “Oh, it wasn’t, huh?”

Uh-oh. I said the “ **T** ” word. Internally, I face-palmed myself. Hard.

“But this is!”

Before I could react, Anya’s hands were on me, her fingertips finding every spot she knew would elicit a response. Giggles and squeaks streamed out of my mouth, only to dance and twinkle in the space between us. Her own laughs mixing with mine, intertwining in a rhythm of love, acceptance, and understanding. As she worked her way down my ribs, my arms and legs spasmed uncontrollably. I don’t know what it is about being tickled, but it makes me turn into a very uncoordinated ninja.

After several minutes that felt more like half an eternity, the tickling ceased and our laughter died down. Silently, Anya worked her fingers through my hair, making quick work of the knots that had formed over night. All the tension that had been building since the week began slowly began to dissipate. My shoulders began to relax, my breathing slowed, and my eyes fluttered shut.

Ever since our parents died and Anya came back home from a big job in New York City, things had changed between us. She was still my best friend. The keeper of my secrets. My verbal punching bag when the world became too big and too heavy for me to carry alone. But now, she was also more understanding, patient, and tender. She would never be my mother, but she was the closest thing I would ever have to one again.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to drift away, into a world where things were easy and emotions didn’t overwhelm the senses. However, like most annoying big sisters, mine couldn’t let the moment last.

Yet, the most beautiful sentence came from her mouth and warmed my poor, little agitated soul. “C’mon Squirt, Roan has probably already finished your chocolate chip pancakes.”

The aroma of melted chocolate swam through the air, causing a rumble to echo through the small space of my bedroom.

Anya leapt from my bed, making a beeline for the door. She paused in the doorway and glanced back at me in mock terror.

I rolled my eyes as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, slipping my feet into my awaiting raccoon slippers. “What are you doing,” I questioned.

The tall brunette reached for the closest thing to her, holding it out like it were a choice weapon. It was my foam dagger from last year’s Halloween costume that I kept on my desk. Had I of not known my sister so well, I think I may have actually feared her.

She held the dagger like it was an extension of her arm. Her eyes never left mine, but I could tell she was acutely aware of her surroundings. The angle of her jaw and the shadows that danced over her face made her look exactly like the skilled warriors and hunters they portray in the movies. In a sense, I guess she was. I mean, she is the city’s lead defense attorney.

“Ma’am,” she said in an authoritative tone, “ I need you to take a few steps back and put your hands in the air.”

I, of course, did the only thing my brain could think to do. I stared at her.

“Ma’am,” the dominating woman in front of me stated once more, “I won’t tell you again. Take a step back and put your hands in the air.”

“And if I don’t,” the question lingered in the still silence between us, the tension growing by the moment.

“Ma’am, if you don’t do as instructed, I will have no choice but to engage.”

With a hint of teen rebellion I asked, “And exactly what is it that you would be engaging?”

Still the serious officer, Anya responded, “I will be forced to respond with force to the threatening menace within your stomach.”

I raised my hands over my head and took a few hesitant steps backs, mock terror etched into every crevice of my face. “I don’t-- What do you mean? What-- What is inside my stomach?”

“Ma’am,” she stated, her voice never rising or falling, the epitome of self-control, “we have reason to believe that there is a Pauna growing within you. We have reason to believe that it could break free at any moment, not only becoming a threat to your safety, but to the safety of others.”

This time, I couldn’t prevent the laugh that bubbled up from my stomach and exploded from my mouth. The sound was harsh in the intense quiet of the room, but left me feeling airy and light. “Really, Anya? A Pauna? The creature you made me believe lived in my closet when we were kids?”

“Yes,” her face the precipice of seriousness.

“You’re kidding, right? That’s the best you could come up with, oh badass Mrs. Police Officer.”

“First of all,” she said, while waving the foam dagger in a scolding manner with her other hand firmly on her hip, “it is Mrs. **_Lead Attorney_** to you. Secondly, did you not hear your stomach growl? It will not be caged any longer!”

“I’m going to kill you before it does,” I exclaimed, lunging over the bed and aiming for the annoying woman that stood in my bedroom doorway.

Of course, she anticipated the movement and released the foam dagger in a perfect arc, hitting me square in the chest where I assume my heart is before turning on her heels and dashing down the stairs. I was close on her heels.

“Help, Roan,” my sister yelled as we trampled down the stairs, “there’s a zombie after me!”

“A zombie,” I questioned as we skid into the kitchen, my slippers keeping me upright and stable, but my sister’s sock covered feet slid easily over the tile, increasing the amount of space between us. She had the audacity to turn mid slide and stick her tongue out at me. So mature.

“Yes, a zombie. I killed you, remember? Dagger straight to the heart?”

I leaned lazily against the countertop. “You may want to work on your aim. You missed my heart.”

“How dare you criticize my aim! That was a total kill shot!”

I’ll give her this. She actually looked offended. However, my retort was abruptly cut short when a tantalizing plate of chocolate chip pancakes was thrust in my face. Suddenly, my desire to seriously maim and kill was replaced by my sudden desire to fill my stomach to full capacity. 

Roan chuckled deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Now, if you two are done bickering and sounding like a hoard of elephants tearing up the house, would you like to sit down and eat breakfast before we get ready for our hike?”

Immediately, I took my seat at the table and began pouring myself a glass of milk, keeping the jug just beyond Anya’s grasp. “We’re going for a hike,” I asked over a mouthful of delicious pancake. “You mean, you guys don’t have to work today?”

The two adults at the table exchanged looks before looking back at me. “Nope,” Roan quipped, “we have the day off and thought we could all use some fresh air.”

Something felt up. Not wrong. Just… up. But I was not about to question any of it. We were going to spend the day together hiking. Almost like we were a family. And after this week in Hell, I mean at school, I could sure use it!

 


	3. The View From Up Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Thanks for all of the lovely comments and kudos. They genuinely make my day. It makes me want to continue with this story. I was unsure about this when I started, but I am enjoying writing it. I know it's a bit of a slow build, but we're doing some character building here. Just, please, stick with me here. I'm not sure what's going to happen yet, but ya'll will know shortly after I do. Whatever it is, I am sure it will take us on a roller coaster ride. So, I hope you buckle in and stay on this ride with me.
> 
> -Sam

Sunlight peeked in through the trees and the brush, alighting everything in a soft glow. Humidity hung in the air, dampening everything within reach with its earthy aroma. Sweat dripped from my brow and trickled down my back. The only sound were the small critters dashing about in search of food and safety and our labored breathing. Man, I know its in between seasons but damn, I feel so out of shape.

The air in my lungs burned with such ferocity that it would have taken my breath away, if I had any to take. But if felt good. For the first time in a while I was calm. This is where I felt safest and most at peace. It was here, amongst the trees and the creatures that called them home. This. This was my element. If I couldn’t be on the soccer pitch, then in the woods is where I wanted to be. It had been far too long since I had been out here. Two years, to be exact. Not since mom and dad died.

Mom and dad. Thinking about and remembering them hurt, but I never wanted to forget. This was our spot. It was a three mile hike up a steep mountain, but the view at the top was worth every strenuous and life threatening step. My parents and I used to come up here every summer and fall in the early evening. We would set up camp and spend all night gazing up at the stars, discussing their history and their future. We talked about everything under the sun and moon. Up here, nothing could touch us. Until something did.

“Hey Squirt. You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” Anya said, her arm falling lazily over my shoulder.

I would have pushed her down the mountain, if I didn’t think I would be the one that had to take care of her for the duration she would be on crutches. Still, it was a lingering thought. She didn’t have one bead of sweat on her face and her breathing was focused and light. Maybe there was something to that whole yoga thing after all. Maybe. But, I didn’t see myself doing any downward dog in my near future.

“Mom and dad,” I replied, barely above a whisper. Saying it out loud made it too real, sadness creeping into my bones like a long lost friend. The pressure in my chest was no longer from the hike, but from something else entirely. It was crushing. My heart thundered in my chest, dancing madly to a sad melody. Mist clouded my vision. Tears? I hadn’t cried since their funeral. It had to be this place. Here, I could still feel the connection to them. It was like I could feel them again, their touch, but I could also feel the undeniable loss that came with their memory.

Anya tilted her head until it touched my own, her eyes, like mine, never leaving the horizon. “I miss them too.” There was a slight hitch to her voice.

Before I knew it, the weekend had flown by and I was once again standing in front of a set of double doors that would lead me into my Hell. Okay, maybe that was a bit over dramatic, but hey, I’m a teenage girl, aren’t we supposed to be? Besides, it wasn’t that much of a stretch.

Arkadia High was an elite school. They claim to be a prestige academy, but that is your average, run of the mill, bullshit propaganda that they spill to get alumni to empty their wallets. You either had to have brains or money to get in. The faculty wouldn’t admit it, but they preferred that you have both. Anya makes good money in the law firm she runs and Roan does just as well being the lead physical trainer at an uppity fitness gym, but I don’t flaunt our money like most of the yuppies here.

I don’t really fit in. I mean I do, but I don't. It's weird.

I don’t wear designer clothes or keep up with the latest fashion. Makeup isn’t something I concern myself with either. Nor do I care about the latest gossip. I don’t care about most of the people here. So, why would I be even remotely interested in who they are dating, breaking up with, sneaking around with, or fucking? The world is filled with much more important matters. All in all, I don’t fit in with the general female population.

Not that the guys here are much better. They’re always either talking about the latest and greatest cars and trucks their mommies and daddies got them, their most recent lay, or comparing dick sizes. None of which I feel even remotely compelled to listen to, let alone comment on. Besides, none of them would like what I had to say anyways. I’m pretty sure my dick is bigger than all of theirs, but that would be too hard for them to swallow.

Of course, as in any school, you have the brainiacs. My grades could probably get me a seat in this group, but that’s not really my crowd either. I don’t really get off on discussing the algorithm theory, politics, the economy, or reliving historic events. I’ll battle them for valedictorian, but that is the furthest extent of any adventures we will ever share together. Plus, unlike many of them, not that they’ll ever really even be offered the chance, but I do dream of getting laid, some day.

Then, there is the one lunch table I know I am always welcomed at. The jocks. It’s a little cliche, I know, but hey, we all have to feel like we belong somewhere and amongst the sweaty and ill-mannered is where I shall stand upon my pedestal.

I don’t know when or how I became the leader of our little click, but I did, and I own it. They call me the "Commander" because evidently, I command people's attention and respect when we are on the field. And maybe off of it too. Too cocky? Maybe.

We are usually the loudest and most rambunctious at any social event, especially events that require some sort of quiet organization. Some of the student body idolizes us, but I think that is more in the hopes of us getting into their pants. Most of the faculty can’t stand us, but for the most part, they leave us be because we can fill the bleachers and bring in revenue to the school.

Damn. Is everything in high school about sex or money? Around here, the answer is yes. Yes it is.

I can tolerate most of the student body here. Hey, just because I don’t want to associate with most of them doesn’t mean I have to be a complete ass. The only group that I really butt heads with are the Arkadia Rebels football team.

Talk about a cock fight. They’re all about the macho bullshit. That, and they all seem to think I am going to steal their girlfriends out from under them. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m sure that I could… if I were even remotely interested in any of them.

Come to think of it, I’ve never really imagined myself dating, let alone anyone here; guy or girl. Neither Anya or Roan would care if I dated a guy or a girl. They're pretty welcoming and open-minded like that. Honestly, I think they just want me to get out of the house for more than just sporting events. But that's not really me, and I refuse to be or act like somebody I'm not. Besides, I don’t even know what I like. I guess I just haven’t met that one person who really catches my eye and even more importantly, my heart. Call me a sap if you will. I believe the more politically correct term is a hopeless romantic.

But then I remember… beautiful, breathtaking blue eyes, and I feel myself starting to drown.


	4. The Great Debate

The bell rang, signalling the end of second period. AP history. Unfortunately, the bell that just ended my favorite class also signals the beginning of my most dreaded class. Fucking debate. Why the hell is this class even necessary to pass high school? I have no plans of attending law school and becoming a lawyer. Nor do I wish to become a well renowned motivational speaker. Nope. I am going to worry my sister to death by joining the Army. I would much rather take orders than give them. Who needs that kind of pressure bearing down on them? Not I!

Reluctantly, I made my way into the classroom, refusing to meet Mr. Pike’s disgruntled glare as I strode towards my seat. Front row. Why? Because obviously, I am a masochist. Like a good nerd, I began pulling out my supplies. Primarily, my notebook and a pen. I was so distracted, digging in my backpack for a pen that I didn’t notice somebody sitting in the usually empty seat next to me.

“Hey there, Commander. Got a pen I can borrow?”

Holy shit. I dropped my backpack, leaving it to clatter and the contents to spill out. Smooth. Real flipping smooth.

“A pen? Of course-- I mean yeah-- Sure.” Oh, my God! _Could I possibly be anymore lame?_

Quickly, I dropped to my knees, making sure to keep my glowing face down as I tried to stuff my belongings back into my bag. Just as I was doing an internal happy dance because I found not one, but two pens, I realized something was missing. _My journal. Where the hell is my journal?_

“Here you go,” my nerves causing my throat to constrict around the words. My hand trembled slightly as I held out the writing utensil. _Jesus, Lex. Get a hold of yourself! It’s just Clarke. You act like you’ve never seen a pretty girl before._

That’s when my eyes finally saw and my brain actually acknowledged what she was holding in her hands, flipping casually through. You guessed it. My damn journal. Probably the most personal thing I own. Not because it contains any secretive thoughts but because I use it to write in. I mean, duh. I guess that’s kind of what you do in a journal. But this one is different. I write short stories, poems, draw little comics, and whatever else my mind can conjure. All about life and the daily struggles of a high school student. My therapist, after my parents died, suggested it and I guess I just stuck with it.

Aside from soccer, my only other real passion is writing. But nobody knows that. Well, nobody did. Until now.

“That’s personal,” I nearly yelled as I lunged for the leather bound book, drawing a few glances in our direction.

“Easy there, Commander. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t realize it was so personal.” She closed the book and handed it delicately back to me.

My face was aflame with embarrassment. “Well, it is,” I deadpanned through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry.” And oh, how those two little words made my heart wrench. Couple that with her guilt ridden face and I was done for.

I sighed, “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. Hell, nobody does.”

“What do you mean, ‘nobody does’? How many people have read what's in this?” There was a light, a sparkle in her eyes that I couldn’t look away from. I was a moth and she was the flame.

“Aside from me, clearly?” I questioned, only receiving a nod in response. “Well, that would depend. Did you read any of it?”

She seemed to ponder the question for a moment. Her pause was the only answer I needed to know the truth, but I was genuinely curious if she would be honest or not. After a moment she replied, her voice barely a whisper, almost as if she were scared of how I would react. “Just a little bit.”

Returning the book back into the safety of my backpack and retrieving the two ink pens, I answered her lingering question. “One person.” And I left it at that, placing the pen on her desk before stuffing my backpack under my seat.

The bell rang, initiating the class. Thank God for small victories. I needed the reprieve. Of course, I seem to be the star in each of each of God’s jokes because my moment of solace didn’t last long.

“For this week’s assignment, I want each of you to pair off. Topics will be drawn from a hat. Your team with either support or argue against the topic at hand. Now, pair up and we’ll start drawing topics. Then, you will have the rest of the period to discuss a game plan with your partner. Presentations will be on Friday.” Mr. Pike actually sounded hopeful for this week’s assignment. I wasn’t.

I may be the Commander, but Lord knows I don’t command a damn thing in this class. That’s why it came as no surprise that nobody wanted to pair up with me. It was a pretty well known fact that this class was my kryptonite. Public speaking either made me panic or puke. Usually both. So, on presentation days, nobody sat in the front row. Just in case. It also came as no surprise that nobody jumped at the chance to be Clarke’s partner. Who was really willing to jeopardize their grade, just to get to know the new girl?

“Well, Commander,” the beautiful blonde said, turning in her chair to face me with a huge smile on her face, “it looks like you and I are going to be partners.”

“Great,” I mumbled. My heart started to thrum madly in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears as my stomach began to somersault. Traitorous body. I just hoped she couldn’t hear it too.

Slowly, Mr. Pike made his way around the room. One by one, the groups pulled from the hat that decided their fate. Finally, he made his way towards us. He shook the hat in his hands lightly, stirring the pieces of paper that still remained within. “Go ahead, Ms. Woods,” he encouraged, “pick your teams poison.”

“Poison is right,” I grumbled under my breath. Clearly, not quietly enough if his disapproving glare were anything to go by. But Clarke, her eyes were the exact opposite. Encouraging. Hopeful. So, with her support, whether she knows it or not, I reached my hand in and withdrew our topic.

Others in the class got your general, run of the mill topics. For or against student uniforms. Healthier food in the cafeteria. Free healthcare. Us? What did we get? We have to put up a supportive argument for euthanasia. Great. We have to argue for assisted suicide; death. Fucking brilliant.

Clarke leaned over my shoulder to get a better view of the topic that will be at the forefront of every conversation we had in this class for the next week. I turned and angled the paper for her to see more clearly without straining herself. “Heavy topic. Well Commander, you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

I don’t know why, but I couldn’t help the smile that forced its way and spread across my face. Yes. I think I do. I definitely think I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one week? In a matter of a few days? Who would have thunk it?! Not I! I know it is slow building. We're still doing a bit of character building. But hey, now they have a legit reason to have to hang out with one another. It is a super sensitive topic. So, I will be curious how they approach the subject, or what memories it may stir up for the both of them. Hmmm....
> 
> As always, I appreciate your thoughts, kudos, comments, and love!  
> -Sam


	5. Flabbergasted Gaylords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of playful banter between friends, as well as some super gay Raven and Lexa cinnamon rolls.

“Alright, it’s settled. You’ll come over to my house at 6 o’clock and we’ll get started on the project,” Clarke said, casually flipping her hair back.

It was a mesmerizing sight. _Wait. What?_

“Sure. Yeah. But um, Clarke-- I don’t know where you live.” _Why do I always sound so dumb when I talked to her?_

“Oh, that’s an easy fix, Lexie-Poo,” she chirped, clicking the pen currently housed in her left hand.

_Lexie-Poo? Really? Wait. That’s my pen! Why does she still have my--_

All thoughts stopped the moment she took my hand in hers. Like, completely stopped. Went completely blank. There was nothing; anyone, but the over excited teenage girl in front of me. The movement of the pen against my palm tickled, but I didn’t want to break the contact. Or be a girly mess.

“There you go,” she piped up, clicking the pen with a deafening finality, “now you know where I live and you have my phone number. Just text me when you’re on your way.”

_I have her number! I have her address! Well, of course you do, you idiot. She is your partner for the stupid project. Oh yeah. Well, go on, say something-- anything. She probably already thinks you’re an idiot._

But no words came out. Nope. Not a one. It’s like every word I have ever learned just got swept away on the wings of the butterflies that had taken residence within my stomach. It was a madhouse in there. The best I could manage was a jerky nod, my eyes still glued to the swirls and twirls of Clarke’s handwriting. Permanently engraved on my skin. _Okay, maybe not permanently. That may have been a bit dramatic. And I, Lexa Woods, am anything but dramatic. But, you know what I mean._

It didn’t matter anyways. Clarke was rounding the corner by the time I remembered to breathe, swept away in the bustle of students making their way towards the cafeteria for lunch.

Lunch. Suddenly, I am acutely aware of how ravished I am. In case I didn’t pick up on the hint, my stomach let loose a terrifying growl. Even I jumped. Quickly, I glanced around, ensuring that nobody else heard it. Nobody did. _Whew!_

Scooping up my backpack, I made my way towards the cafeteria. No period seemed to pass faster than lunch. It’s like time speeds up and then completely halts as the end of the school day approaches. I stop dead in my tracks the moment I hit the doorway leading into the large space. That’s a lot of people. Like, a lot of people. By the time I get my lunch, lunch will be nearly over. Now, don’t get me wrong, I can scarf my food down. That’s not the issue. This is my socialization period.

Before I can get anymore upset, I hear a familiar whistle, a few whoops following it. Shaking my head, I trudge toward the sound. Upon arriving at the table of misfits, I see my empty seat with a full tray in front of it. Have I mentioned lately that I have the best friends in the world? Because, I totally do.

“Take a seat, Cap. Eat up! You’re going to need your strength,” stated a rather amused Octavia.

“Good looking out, O,” I said around a mouthful of spaghetti. _This was spaghetti, right?_ Once I swallowed a bit of it down I asked, “But what is it I need my strength for?”

“Well, as I hear it, you need to keep up your strength to battle a certain sophisticated blonde.” Of course, she continued before I could intervene, “and you need it for the off-season conditioning practice coach has scheduled for us after school.”

“Oh shit,” I snort, nearly spewing chocolate milk out of my nose, at the amusement of my friends and teammates. Once the coughing subsided, I answered truthfully, “I forgot about that.”

A few eyes were drawn to our table as the sound of something being pounded resonated. Me. It was me being pounded. Raven had taken it upon herself to assist me with my current predicament. My body jerked forward with every hit, my head jerking with the force.

“If you don’t stop hitting me, you heavy handed bitch--” each word coming out a bit too enunciated, “you’re starting to give me whiplash.”

“Just trying to keep you from dying, Cap,” the sassy Latino stated simply, with a soft shrug of her shoulders. “So, why were you late getting to the lunchroom?”

Again, debris got caught in my throat, turning me into a spluttering fool once more. The beating against my back restarted, this time, with a bit more vigor. You couldn’t convince Raven that she wasn’t helpful. Ever. She believes every thought she has is a brilliant one and she usually voices such. And like most Latinos I know, she has no filter… or volume button.

Once I could breathe properly, I turned sharply to face my smiling co-captain. “Raven Reyes, if you lay one more damn hand on me, I am going to bench you for the first half of the season!”

The brunette actually had the audacity to look admonished, throwing her hands in the air as a sign of truce. “Damn Lex, what has your panties in a wad today?”

Stuffing more food into my mouth, I ignored her question. Until it became apparent that she was actually expecting an answer. And obviously, so was everyone else at the table, if their swift glances to one another were anything to go off of.

I swallowed, probably more forcefully than necessary. “Yo, Reyes, my panties are of no concern to you.”

Everyone at the table laughed, easing some of the building tension. “You have a damn nice body, Cap, but you aren’t exactly my type.”

“What do you mean,” I questioned, “I move. Isn’t that your type?”

Echo almost fell off her stool, her fits of laughter rocking the whole table. O actually did fall of her stool, laughing so hard tears streamed from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. Monty just shook his head, his lips turned up at the corners, not willing to meet anybody’s gaze. Bellamy slapped the table, the sound sure to turn a few more heads our way, as well as the disdainful look of the faculty members present. Raven? Well, she looked like she was ready to spit fire.

“If I didn’t know any better, Woods, I would believe that you just implied that I am a slut.” The words weren’t laced with venom at all. If I had to call it anything, I would say there was a hint of amusement in there.

“I mean,” I cooed, my shoulders rising slightly with a shrug as I stuffed more food into my mouth, “if the shoe fits,” I drawl out, allowing more time to swallow, “lace that bitch up and run like a motha fucker!”

The table erupted in laughter. Even a few of the students at nearby tables couldn’t contain theirs. However, much of the sound was drowned out as a strong arm wrapped itself around my neck and pulled me none too gently to the ground. My ass made impact with a dull _thud._ Of course, I could have conceded and the wrestling match would have ended right then, but I am no quitter.

We thrashed about on the cafeteria floor for several minutes. Peers looked on in mild amusement, curious who would come out victorious. Most of the faculty pretended not to notice, figuring we were just up to our usual boisterous antics.

“Ten bucks says Reyes comes out on top,” jabbed Jasper.

“Oh, you are so on,” replied Bellamy, shaking hands with Jasper, “I can’t imagine our Commander here being a bottom. She’s too Alpha for that.”

Octavia piped up, wanting to join in on the fun, “I bet they both freeze and go all googly eyed.”

Both boys looked at her in confusion. “Bet,” they both shouted simultaneously.

O smiled triumphantly, like she had already won. “In 3… 2…”

Front atop the mountain that is Raven “Boom” Reyes, in my peripheral, I noticed a tapping set of black, high top converse. Both I and my co-captain instantly stopped our struggles for domination and allowed our eyes travel up a glorious set of legs. My face had to look like a tomato by the time I noticed who those legs belonged to. _Clarke._

“C-- Hi-- Klark,” I stammered out, none too intelligently. _What is it about this girl that turns me into a blubbering idiot?_

“Hey there, new girl,” the girl squirming mass beneath me chirped, her eyes glowing with hearts.

“Pay up, chumps,” smiled a victrious warrior.

Both guys dug reluctantly into their pockets, pulling out bills and passing them across the table. The boastful brunette playfully pocketed the bills. “Thank you guys for playing this round of, ‘Flabbergasted Gaylords.’ I encourage you to tune in for the next round. This episode was brought you by Trojan Condoms. The gift that keeps you from giving.”


	6. Just Another Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Sorry about the delay in getting an update completed and up. Life likes to hit me, and then keep hitting me for good measure. The good news is, I think I have come up with a better time management strategy that may help me to write at least a little bit most nights. Of course, when I write, it won't be just for this fic. I do have two more I am working on as well.
> 
> As always, I hope that you enjoy the update. Kudos are lovely. Comments make my day.  
> -Sam

“Woods, focus!” Shouted my coach from further down the pitch.

I shook my head, trying to shake away the thoughts that lingered there. Golden hair. Piercing cerulean eyes. Plump lips. An “I don’t care” attitude. A beautiful girl. A. Girl. 

I shouldn’t be having thoughts like that about a girl. Of course, it’s okay to admit when a young woman is stunning, but those thoughts aren’t supposed to make your mouth run dry.

What is happening?

“Woods,” Coach Indra yelled with far too much gusto, “do you want to do elbows to knees around the pitch until the end of practice?”

Fuck no. I surely did not! “No coach,” I hollered in reply.

“Then get your ass in gear and show me why they call you the Commander and why I let you lead this team!”

Octavia shoulder bumped me as I jogged back to the center of the pitch, internally scolding myself for letting anyone distract me from soccer. Even a pretty girl. “You alright there, Cap?”

“Yeah, O, I’m good.” I answered as I gathered my team in a huddle. “You guys ready to show these freshmen what it really means to be a Grounder?”

My teammates clapped and cheered, signalling they were ready to whip the poor, unsuspecting freshmen into shape. “Grounders on three!”

On three, we all threw our hands into the air and cheered as we made our way to our starting positions. I am a midfielder, and I have the two strongest attackers in our division. Octavia and Raven. Both were pretty intimidating when you put a soccer ball in front of them. 

The smaller brunette, O, stood in the dead center of the pitch, a soccer ball resting lifelessly at her feet. Raven and I stood on each side of her, awaiting the blow of the whistle. 

After taking a deep, calming breath, I zeroed in on the game and the sound of the whistle pierced the air. Octavia passed the ball quickly to me. In response, I held my hand in the air, displaying four fingers. “Diamond formation four,” I called out. 

Slowly, I dribbled towards the left hand side of the field. The small freshman in front of me slowly backed up, waiting to see what I did with the ball. That was fine with me. No reason to show off the fancy footwork today. Plus, this gave my teammates more time to settle into their positions. Octavia ran down the center of the pitch, directly towards the opposing team’s goal. Of course, this drew a couple of defenders her way. Thus, leaving the sassy Latino wide open off to the far right of the field. 

In one swift movement, I sent the ball into motion, sailing through the air towards it desired target. It hit Raven square in her chest and with a well practiced movement, she let the ball fall to her feet. I could tell my co-captain was in her element, because she gave a cocky grin, one that only she could pull off. 

The freshman in front of her advanced, clearly tired of remaining still and feeling like she had something to prove. Unbeknownst to the young girl, this was exactly what we wanted to happen. Especially since two defenders were still currently guarding Octavia as she wandered aimlessly around the top of the key.

“Harper, three and split!” Raven cried out, easily being heard over the soft wind. 

Within moments, Harper rushed up the pitch, breezing past Raven, following the exact same path Octavia had previously taken. Members of the opposing team tried to rush Harper, but Little Blake had already pulled them away from their intended target. Our team’s co-captain skillfully rocketed the ball in Harper’s direction. It fell right at her feet and she didn’t have to stutter her steps to continue forward with it.

A lonely freshman had made it across the field faster than the others. I would have to remember her face for future reference. She might have a future off the bench this season with that kind of speed. But she was too headstrong. Instead of being patient, she rushed Harper. A straight shot. At the last minute, before a collision could occur, Harper faked right and sliced left. Leaving the bull-headed young freshman to stumble and fall. She threw her hands in the air, looking for a call.

“It was a clean move, Costia. Get up and keep it moving!”

Grunting, she heaved herself up, a hint of embarrassment tinting her cheeks.  Once again, she charged at my fellow midfielder. Her body hit the ground with a low  _ thud _ as she attempted to slide tackle and steal the ball. Sadly, for her, Harper had guessed her actions before Costia probably even knew what she was going to do.

Again, at the last possible minute, Harper hurled the ball back in my direction. It sailed a little far left and threatened to go out of bounds as the midfielder crashed to the ground. The freshman had successfully made contact with Harper, sending her down and getting her foot on the ball, just enough to deflect it, a bit. Because she got her foot on the ball, it was a clean move and the play continued.

That was no sweat off our backs though. Harper was a true Grounder, a warrior. She would be back on her feet and giving them back what they dished out in no time. With ease, I threw my left leg in the air, catching the ball off my ankle and sending it into the air. I got under the ball, bouncing it quickly off my head and down to my feet.

“O, up and two” I yelled, full of determination.

In one well practiced, well oiled pass, we landed our shot. On queue, Octavia rushed from the center of the pitch to the right corner of the goal, making sure to stay just behind a defender, so as not to get called off-sides. As the ball left my feet, I knew without any doubt that it would be true to its mark. And that it was. It sailed through the air and began its descent in a mass of yellow practice jerseys, with one red one in the center of the bunch. Defying all odds, the attacker arose amidst the slaughter of yellow jerseys and snapped her head to send the ball soaring into the back of the net. 

Coach called us all together shortly after we all began to smack each other on the back and congratulate one another on a well executed play. “Well, freshmen, you can see what you’re up against, if you want to get off the bench this season and see some play time.

Some of the younger girls beamed, just happy to be on the team. Others rolled their eyes, sour that they weren’t in the spotlight and with the knowledge that the only field they may ever play on this year is the practice field. 

“By the way Woods, what in the hell was that play?” Coach questioned, clearly more amused than she was aggravated.

A slight flush crept up my neck and fell upon my cheeks. Shrugging, I replied, “It wasn’t much, coach. Just something that we practiced a bit over the Summer?”

Coach Indra folded her arms over her chest, holding her clipboard close to her. Peering over her dark tinted sunglasses she asked, “You mean to tell me you guys get together over the Summer, just to over plays?”

If I didn’t know any better, I would say that my well mannered coach sounded incredulous. I couldn’t decide if I should be offended by that tone or not. “Yes ma’am. I mean, we do it as a way to unwind and hang out too.” I would have to decide later.

“Well ladies,” the tall, dark, stoic woman said, clasping her hand together in front of her, “this is the type of dedication you are up against. This season, may the Grounders come out on top, again!”

After a bit more lecturing and a bit of advice swapping, the entire team huddled together. Coach remained on the outskirts, merely acting as an observer. For a well-renown coach, she is pretty hands off. 

“Freshman,” I began, “don’t let today get you down in the dumps. We are thrilled to have you on the team. And don’t worry, our bark is usually worse than our bite.”   


“Speak for yourself,” Raven interjected.

This caused a ripple of laughter though the team. “We’re not saying that we are experts, but our team has been the best in the league for the last two years. We want to keep it that way. So, heed your fellow teammates advice and accept coach’s criticism and you will only grow. Are we all in agreement?”

“Yes, Heda.” A few mumbled.

So, I had to ask again. “Are we in agreement?”

The response was a bit more solid this time, “Yes, Heda!” But it wasn’t enough.

“I said, do you agree to be an effective and reliable member of this team,” I nearly shouted.

The team erupted in a roar of compliance, “YES, HEDA,” they yelled as one.

Now. Now we sounded more like a team. “Grounders on three!”

After we parted ways, the older members went around the field, collecting equipment. The younger generation made their way towards the locker room. Their spirits seemed to be getting better after their crushing defeat. A few of them even slung their arms around one another as they walked. A smile threatened the corners of my lips. We could have a pretty solid team this year.

After collecting my share of the equipment, which included three bags of soccer balls, I started making my way towards the locker room as well. “Hey guys, I’ll meet you in the locker room after my shower to go over a few more things.”

Octavia and Raven both shouted their agreement. Echo nodded in my general direction, as she carried on with her task at hand. Harper gave me a thumbs up and Luna just smiled. Emori just kind on talking to Gaia, but I knew that they both heard me. So, I continued on my way.

I was almost inside the tunnel, leading to the locker rooms when a pleasant, chipper voice startled me, almost causing me to drop the balls. “Heda, huh?”

Regaining my bearings, I chanced a glance at the owner of that gruff, yet feminine voice. Leaning over the railing was Clarke. My mouth dried up and my throat constricted instantly, upon the realization. Once again, words were lost on me and the best I could manage was a humble nod of my head.

“A leader of a thousand words, I see,” Clarke teased. “Well, you’re going to have to explain that one to me when we walk to my house.” 

Internally, I powered down my mind numbing thoughts and channeled my inner Commander. My look of skepticism and confusion was quickly masked by that of stoicism. “What do you mean, when we walk to your house?” I questioned. For once, my voice actually sounded sure of the words it was speaking to her.

Clarke looked slightly annoyed as she folded her arms securely over her chest. A light tapping echoed in the space between us, her foot beating out a quick melody. “The goal was for you to come over to my house after school to work on our debate project? Did you already forget?”

“No, I didn’t,” I had to bite back the venom that stung my tongue. “I had just assumed that I would be going there alone, after I grabbed something to eat.”

Clarke’s dark demeanor shattered and she was once more the cheery, bubbly girl I had met earlier in the day. “Well, Lexie-Poo, we can always stop along the way to grab something to eat. I am sure you’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

“Wait,” my brain stumbling once more, “have you been sitting there the entire practice?”

“Of course I have been,” the gorgeous blonde answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Now, go get cleaned up. You are going into my bedroom smelling like that.” Clarke turned up her nose in disgusted, as if she had smelled something rancid.

I quickly nodded as I made my way further into the depths of the tunnel. When I was positive that I was beyond her line of sight, I quickly lifted my arms and sniffed at both my armpits. Even I turned my nose up at the smell. Yep, I would definitely have to fix that.

It wasn’t until I was in the locker room shower that a thought stopped me mid motion, my yellow loofa freezing over my stomach.  _ Lexie-Poo? _ What in the hell is up with that nickname and how do I get rid of it? 


End file.
